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Wednesday, December 11, 2013

When potty training goes terribly, terribly wrong

Recently we were getting ready to go home after church, and Tessa did what she tries to do every single week as we're about to leave the chapel: she escaped my grasp and started full-fledge running around the entire building like a wild, ferocious wildebeest.

I made the mistake of trying to chase her. This resulted in the two of us running around the entire building, she like a wild, ferocious wildebeest, and I like a lame, biped lion stumbling around hoping to accidentally fall on her to make her stop running.

Before long I realized something ominous. She had completely disappeared. I got Lolly in on the hunt, and we sent Anna around to look for Tessa too.

We searched, but to no avail. Eventually, as we regrouped, we were relieved when Anna showed up with Tessa in tow. But there was a problem. Tessa wasn't wearing pants.

The following conversation ensued:

Lolly: Tessa, where are your pants?

Tessa: I went pee pee in the potty!

Lolly: Well... good job Tessa, I guess. But where are your pants?"

Tessa: By the toilet.

This was not a good development. It's one thing to have a child running around the halls of the building like a wildebeest on crystal meth. It's another matter entirely when that wildebeest on crystal meth decides to go pee pee in the potty without supervision of any kind.

Immediately Lolly took Tessa over to the closest women's bathroom to retrieve her clothes. She went into the bathroom and, as it turns out, there were no pants by the toilet.

Lolly: Your pants aren't here, sweetie. Where is they?

Tessa: Not in this bathroom. In the other bathroom.
Suddenly Lolly's fears began to mount.

Lolly:Which otherbathroom??
Tessa pulled Lolly's hand and led her to the men's bathroom.

Of course.

Lolly opened the door (I was waiting at the front of the chapel with the other kids at this point). "Hello!?" she yelled. When there was no answer, she walked in, and there it was: Tessa's little pair of pants in the middle of the floor. Of the men's bathroom.

Lolly, of course was horrified. But not as horrified as she was two seconds later when, as she picked up the pants from the floor, she heard Tessa exclaim "I used this potty!"

And when she looked up, this was what she saw:

Wildebeests are famous for using urinals. Especially potty training wildebeests.

And that's when we called a HAZMAT team to bring Tessa home and sterilize her entire body.

We learned so many lessons this day!

Pro-tip #1: Do not let your three-year-old run around a building unsupervised.

Pro-tip #2: Do not let your three-year-old go pee pee unsupervised.

Pro-tip #3: Do not let your three-year-old go pee pee in the men's bathroom. Because she will use a urinal. Presumably by sitting on it.

I am laughing so hard!! That's almost as bad as my son coming out with a cup of toilet water THAT HE WAS DRINKING FROM! But he's 17 now and healthy as as a horse so who knows. Thanks for a great laugh!

AuntSueHello Good Parents. She is alive. She is safe. She is self-reliant. She has dry pants.And you have a good story to write in your blog!(has she ever been told about the bizzarre difference between a home potty that everyone uses, and a public place potty that weirdly separates the world into boys and girls before they can do their business?) (Was she curious to see a boys potty, or was she desperate to go and went into the closest one?)

When I was six, our ward house was a 1907 stake house. It had two pulpits, with one up behind the choir seats (for stake conference) and one to the side and below the choir (for sacrament meeting). During sacrment meeting, Mom was playing the organ, so Dad asked me to take my three year old sister to the bathroom. While there, I had a dilemma. Her panties were wet. So I made a six year old decision, to not put wet panties back on my sister, to carry them back to Dad. (holding them up by a tiny bit of waist band elastic) When I reached the chapel door, another dilemma. I didn't want to carry those panties right in front of the people sitting in the front row. (I had to cross to other side where we were sitting ) So I chose the longer route up three steps, behind the choir seats, in front of the Sacrament table and around to the other side, down three steps and back to Dad. Of course, now EVERYONE in the chapel, all the way to the back seats, could see me carefully carrying my sister's wet panties.

Oh Aunt Sue! Similar story. After being taken to the potty by her big sister, my niece sat down next to my husband during the church service, lifted her dress to show off, and announced very loudly "I don't have any pant (muffle muffle--as my husband clapped his hand over her mouth)" We whispered to my sister, who sent her oldest daughter to fetch said panties, who returned, carrying them in front of her by the waistband, all the way up to the second row in the chapel. This niece is now potty training her daughter--time to remind her of this story, I think . . .Janin AZ

Many years ago, a woman in Texas was attending a George Strait concert and was arrested for going into the men's room because she could not do the long line to the women's. She got to the door, opened it, screamed into the place that she was coming in, ran to a stall and get business done. When she came out, there was a police officer there to arrest her. It was illegal to use opposite gender bathrooms. The officer in one of the stalls when she screamed in and told her he felt bad about it because he knew she was not there to cause harm or trouble. She was very angry because she had paid $160.00 for her front row seat. She would miss the concert and she did not think she could get a refund. Tessa did great. Besides, don't the urinals get a weekly thorough cleaning?

Are you new here?

Oh hi.

I am Josh Weed.

I am a gay, Mormon man who is married to a woman. I have four daughters, one of whom is not featured in the photo on the header of this blog because she wasn't born yet. When she's old enough to realize this she's gonna be pissed, but as of now she can't talk yet, so I'm rolling with it.

I am a Marriage and Family Therapist who is licensed through AAMFT (the American Association of Marriage and Family Therapists), a Certified Sex Addiction Therapist trained through IITAP (the International Institute of Trauma and Addiction Professionals), and was named the Best Father Ever from TAOITMKTSTOITATST (The Association of I Told My Kids To Say That Or I'd Take Away Their Screen Time).

This website is my personal blog. I write serious posts and humorous/satirical posts. You'll probably very easily tell the difference, but if you're ever wondering, just ask. Sometimes as I write this blog, I might talk about therapy concepts. I might mention things that I've learned in my grad studies. I might share thoughts I'm having around things I'm reading, or ideas I hope will be helpful. When that happens, please know that I am offering my thoughts as a fellow human writing on his personal blog, and not as your personal therapist, or even as a professional giving professional advice. Grain of salt, is what I'm saying. Always consult (and pay for!) a professional's opinion when making therapeutic changes in your own life.

So yeah. That's how things go around here. Some days you'll get a post on a serious topic I happen to be thinking about. Other days you'll get a post about me crapping my pants on a morning run.

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...The weed stood in the severed heart."What are you doing there?" I asked.It lifted its head all dripping wet(with my own thoughts?)and answered then: "I grow," it said,"but to divide your heart again."